Like A Skyscraper
by Adanwen
Summary: Years after the war, Draco returns home from Platform 9 3/4 to find that the past is not dead yet. Song-fic to Demi Lovato's "Skyscraper". Pairing: Drastoria.


**Like a Skyscraper**

Draco Malfoy loved his son, but right now he just tried to drown out the constant waterfall of words bubbling from Scorpius´ mouth.

"...and then the toad turned all purple and swelled to the size of a Quaffle! You should have seen his face, Dad! And Albus got a full week of detention with Professor Longbottom; he had to clean out the greenhouses, haha, you don´t want to know what kind of slime he found there - he was still smelling badly in the morning at breakfast! And Rose was all, "It´s what you deserve, you should have listened to me", and then he got really angry and…"

He had been like this ever since Draco had picked him up from King´s Cross after his first year at Hogwarts. _I never chattered like that after school_, he thought impatiently, _but then again, Dad would have_ _hit me with his cane if I had. _He winced at that thought and decided to listen to his son´s adventures instead.

"…and I fell into that trap step on the stair in the sixth floor again, but Albus got me out before Peeves could stuff bubble gum into my ear and then we were late for class AGAIN and Professor McGonnagall was absolutely furious…"

Draco snorted and chuckled at his son´s elaboration of the complete injustice of the situation. Just when he was about to tell Scorpius about the short cut to the Transfiguration class room (behind the tapestry of The Wedding of Wenceslas the Weird and Wendy the Wide eyed), he smelled something other than the fresh mowed lawn of the Muggle neighbourhood.

_Probably just someone preparing a barbecue_, he thought, but a nasty feeling in his stomach told him it was something else. Looking down at his son he was relieved to see that he hadn´t noticed anything and was still mimicking a wireless to his heart´s content. However, when they turned a corner and had nearly reached the Malfoy´s house, big heavy clouds of smoke greeted them. Draco stopped dead and Scorpius gave a little gasp and disappeared behind him; clutching his knees. There was something eerily familiar about this scene. Had he read about this in some book in the library? Or maybe someone had told him, described it to him. But when?

_**As the smoke clears  
>I awaken and untangle you from me<strong>_

The black smoke lifted somewhat with the wind and he noticed that his son was holding him so tightly that his feet started to get numb.

"Scorpius, it´s ok. You have to let go of me, it will be all right…"

But even as he spoke the smoke shifted once more and he could catch a glimpse of the roof. Or more like what hovered above it. And suddenly he remembered it all: he had been at Malfoy Manor over the holidays and had listened to the men talking in the kitchen.

"You should have seen their faces when they saw the smoke, I tell you, there´s nothing better than to stay behind a bit after it´s all been done and wait till they come home. Even though Malfoy says it´s too dangerous, too much risk of getting caught. Bet he´s never got that job anyway, too important for that dirty work. HA! Not anymore, I´d say, not anymore…"

"Daddy, Daddy, what is _that_?"

He had noticed it too by now. Little pieces of ash and debris came falling down on them, like rain. It was unreal.

_**Skies are crying  
>I am watching<br>Catching teardrops in my hands**_

Draco slowly reached out his hand and watched the small flakes collect in his palm. He never thought he´d see that again. _But it can´t be!_ A desperate little voice in his head pleaded, _it simply can´t be! The war is over…trials have been held…and my arm…surely I would have noticed! _He shook his head angrily at his own thoughts. How could he be so foolish, he had seen him die that day, he was gone once and for all. _But who would have done this - why?__**  
><strong>_Who had cast the dark mark over his house?

_**You can take everything I have  
>You can break everything I am<br>Like I'm made of glass  
>Like I'm made of paper<strong>_

He still couldn´t move, couldn´t breathe. Didn´t hear anything, didn´t see anything but the enormous black snake crawling out of the skull´s open mouth. He didn´t blink, didn´t want to, because as soon as he snapped out of this he would have to go in there and search for Astoria…

"Dad!"

Scorpius was tugging at his arm, trying to make him react in any way. But he couldn´t take his eyes of the empty sockets, staring right back at him. He hardly registered his son giving up on his shouting and disappearing in the haze.

_**Go run, run, run  
>I'm gonna stay right here<br>Watch you disappear**_

Unable to say how much time had passed, he finally unfroze when he heard a muffled cry from inside the house. Against his will his feet started moving and he saw his hand open the door, hanging loosely in its angles.

_I don´t want to know what he found, I don´t want to know…_

His mind seemed to be unable of thinking anything else and repeated that one sentence like a mantra. All around him books, papers, and furniture were lying on the floor; torn, crumpled, and broken. Making his way through the chaos that once had been the happiest place in the world for him, he arrived at the living room, where he saw Scorpius staring at the wall opposite the door with an expression of sheer terror stuck on his face.

Draco´s eyes scanned the room hastily but he couldn´t find any sign that gave him a clue of the whereabouts of his wife. Not knowing whether this was good or not, he eventually cast a look on the wall and felt like being drowned in ice cold water. The appearance of a Dementor couldn´t have made him feel as helpless as this did.

**DEATHEATER**

Just that one word. Smeared on the pure white wall like a curse in a sickening red that looked like blood. Once again he wondered who could have done this…obviously his thoughts had been running into the completely wrong direction at first. This had nothing to do with the people who had frequented Malfoy Manor eleven years ago - although it clearly had to be someone from the time of war. Someone who could not let go of the past.

From the corner of his eye he perceived a movement and raised his wand quicker than he would have thought himself capable. He hadn´t even registered that it had been in his left pocket. But no masked figure stared back at him - it was his son, who stood petrified in a hunched position, having just picked up a scattered book from the floor.

_I have to calm down_, he told himself imploringly, _for Scorpius. He´s already scared enough, it wouldn´t help if his Dad lost his mind._

He ran shaking fingers through his hair and tried to quench the choking feeling rising in his throat. This is what he had dreaded in the first months after the war, but now, after so many years? He had promised that his son would never have to suffer the way he had, would never have to witness the horrors of Voldemort´s tyranny and his followers. He could not imagine anyone enjoying the sight of him and his son, standing lost in the living room and collecting the shards of their home.

_**Would it make you feel better  
>To watch me while I bleed<strong>_

Just as he started to wonder what to do now, another cry violently pulled him out of his reverie; only this time it called his name. It was the ring of utmost despair to it that made him drop his wand at once and rush up the half crashed stairs to the first floor.

"Astoria?"

He was sure it had been her voice, even though it had sounded very feeble. What if she had been hurt? What if she was lying in her blood, unable to move, just like the students at the Battle of Hogwarts in the Great Hall? Pushing the picture aside with what seemed inhuman strength, he stopped in the threshold of their bedroom. There was Astoria, all right, but all the blood he could spot was on her hands, holding something and shivering all over. With something between a scream and a sob he fell to his knees beside her and covered her tear streaked face with his hands.

"Draco…what happened?" She was barely audible. And then, in sudden panic: "Where is Scorpius?"

"Don´t worry, he´s downstairs. We just arrived," he panted. Gesturing to her injured hands he added "Are you ok?"

She just nodded absent-mindedly. Taking a closer look he realized what she was holding. In a surreal moment he saw himself smiling up to him and waving happily. It took several seconds before he actually recognized the picture. Gathered around him were Astoria, who was holding a sleeping Scorpius, her parents and sister, and his mother. They were standing in the middle of a beautiful park, somewhere in London, where they had taken their son to his first encounter with the outside world. Everything had seemed perfect to him on that day, but now there were three angry looking blood stains tainting the portrait from where his wife´s fingers had touched the broken glass.

_**Only silence, as it's ending  
>Like we never had a chance<br>Do you have to make me feel like there's nothing left of me**_?

"Who…" Astoria´s voice broke and she tried to cover it bravely with a cough. "I mean…did you see anyone?"

"No. I thought - you were here, weren´t you?" His own voice sounded odd. Had it always been this high?

She shook her head emphatically, some colour returning to her face. "I had been off to the Ministry, leaving some paperwork before the holidays. I apparated straight back to this room and then I saw this." Her eyes flipped to the wall behind them, giving him an apologetic glance along the way, as if what she had found were her fault in some way.

**HYPOCRITE** it read right over the light blue covers of the bed he had made this morning. For the first time this day Draco felt angry. What kind of accusation was this? Whoever was responsible for this may have or not have good reasons for hating him, but in his eyes one couldn´t be more of a hypocrite than to call someone a Deatheater and revert to their methods of destroying and threatening. In fact, it was pathetic.

_**Go on and try to tear me down  
>I'll be rising from the ground<br>Like a skyscraper  
>Like a skyscraper<strong>_

He took a deep breath and slowly rose from the ground. "We should inform the Ministry and get some aurors here. And start to clean up."

Astoria remained were she was, looking up in doubt. "The Ministry? Do you really - I mean, they´ll probably think it a big laugh and tomorrow morning it will be head news in _The_ _Prophet_."

Trying to smile at the thought, he found that it wasn't that hard, and it made him feel more determined.

"Only if they can´t find another story of Harry Potter´s son buying his first broom or something of the sort. And I don´t care what they think at the Ministry. They should simply do their job and find out who did this."

She bit her lip, still staring at the broken frame in her hands.

"Besides," he continued, unable to see her give in to this injustice. He may deserve this, but not his family. "It´s not like we´re not used to reading about ourselves in the newspaper, are we?"

A shy grin spread on her face like a blooming flower.

"True."

Grabbing his offered hand she got up and they simply stood there, in midst of the shining glass and dancing dust, just staring at each other and trying to gain strength from the other.

_**Go on and try to tear me down  
>I'll be rising from the ground<br>Like a skyscraper  
>Like a skyscraper<strong>_

After having informed the Ministry, having answered all the aurors´ questions and having shown them around the house, they both collapsed on the miraculously undamaged (almost) couch. Scorpius had informed them matter-of-factly that this was without doubt due to his favourite plushie, a bunny called Miffy, having been lying on it and thus protecingt it. Even though Scorpius was past the age of playing with stuffed animals, he still left his favourite one flying around the house and referred to him like a respected elder. It had been the first time Draco had laughed after finding the Dark Mark hovering over his house. It had also reminded him of how innocent his son was and he found himself wondering how this could be when the world outside was such a vile place. When he himself had been a vile person for most of his life.

"Draco?" Astoria clasped his hand, concern trembling in her voice. "Are you all right?"

Sometimes he got the eerie impression that his wife could read his thoughts, but every time he told her so she just laughed and said that his mimics were like an open book, and that he should never try to play poker.

_I should ask her what poker is some time_,he briefly reflected. _But now I gotta get something else done. _He stood up slowly and gave her a determined look.

"I will be."

_**Go run, run, run  
>Yeah, it´s a long way down<br>But I am closer to the clouds up here**_

Astoria hadn´t decided yet whether to worry about her husband´s answer when she saw Draco return from the kitchen with a bucket full of water in his left hand and a sponge in his right. She couldn´t believe her eyes. She knew that he had gotten over the prejudices concerning Muggles and everything to do with them, but she never would have thought to see him choose to do something the Muggle way when he could equally solve it with a flick of his wand. Because his laziness was bigger than any bias. Or at least, so she had thought.

The rough material of the sponge against his palm, the water mingling with the bright red letters and slowly dissolving them, the physical work - all of this gave Draco a strange feeling of satisfaction.

_**All my windows, still are broken  
>But I'm standing on my feet<strong>_

With a last wipe, the rest of the paint disappeared from the wall. There was still a lot of cleaning up to do, but this first step was like liberation to him. A soft breeze entered through the sparkling glass of the broken window and caught his hair. He closed his eyes and turned towards the sunlight streaming in.


End file.
